


Tomorrow You Might Die

by Kitsprite



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Albino Dave Strider, Awkward First Times, Bulges and Nooks, Hand Jobs, M/M, Troll Anatomy, Uncircumcised Penis, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16219040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsprite/pseuds/Kitsprite
Summary: Your name is Karkat Vantas, and tomorrow you might die. At least you won't die a virgin.





	Tomorrow You Might Die

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and tomorrow you might die. Your matesprit's name is Dave Strider, and tomorrow he might die. Together, you made the decision that you wouldn't die virgins. You stand before your matesprit as bare as the day you pupated. Dave has at least had the good fucking manners to do the same. He's staring at you with an expression of wonder, and you suspect you don't look much different. You look over him and commit everything to memory, you don't ever want to forget even the smallest detail. You begin your survey from the top.

Dave has no horns, but that doesn't bother you. It'd be kind of hypocritical, considering your ridiculous mutant nubs. His hair is pale, only just off white, and softer than yours. The fine strands lie flat with little effort on his part. His skin, too, is pale. A pink-tinged white layer so thin you can see his veins and arteries. His eyebrows are thick, but on him they work, balancing the fineness of his features. His eyes are bright heretical red on white, vibrating slightly as he struggles to focus. Above his lip, a fuzz of white hair has begun to grow, accompanied by patches on his chin and in front of his ears. He had muttered something about asking Rose to teach him to shave when you pointed it out. His teeth are blunt, blunter even than yours, and a bit crooked. Not as bad as Sollux's, it didn't seem to cause him any problems, and the imperfection of it only made him more beautiful in your eyes. His lips were thin, unremarkable, hardly the things romance novels waxed poetic about, gogdamn did you love kissing them, though.

His neck is lusus-white and exposed, thin skin showing you exactly where the main vessels are and your pusher clenches with pity at the show of trust. His collarbones sweep around in a graceful arc, and the flat expanse of his chest is criss-crossed with small scars. He has a fighter's body, he may be thin as a leaf-gathering-implement but there is lean muscle on his frame. You know Dave hates fighting, and you pity him for what will come in the new session.

There are weird pink nubs on his chest, two of them, one on each side. You kind of want to touch them, but you don't want to spook Dave. So you let your gaze drop. A flat, unarmoured stomach, with a small line of fur starting about halfway down and stretching down to his crotch, where a thick covering of white fur sat atop his bulge. Dear gog human bulges are strange, a long white fleshy tube that ends in some dangling skin, and then something else dangling behind that. The thing behind looks like a pair of rocks in a furry skin-sack, and it occurs to you that they might be his shameglobes. External shameglobes. What the actual fuck. Your bulge twitches and hey, look, apparently you have a xeno kink you never even knew about. Dave's bulge starts to lengthen as he realises that you're looking at it. A glance upwards shows how much he's blushing, a reddening that starts up in his hair and continues down onto his upper chest. The bulge continues to lengthen and seems to stiffen, too, poking upwards to reveal that there is an opening in the skin, and something purple starting to push its way out. Holy shit, if that's just the sheath, then for your nook's sake you hope the actual bulge isn't very big. Your nook doesn't seem to have gotten that memo, because you can feel its cartilaginous defensive plates start to retract and lubricating material beginning to ooze. Your bulge is starting to push out of its bonesheath and Dave is captivated.

Dave's bulge reaches perhaps six inches in length, and an angle a bit above parallel with the floor, the purple thing still only poking out a little bit from its skin sheath. It twitches occasionally, and Dave clenches his long, slender fingers and bites his lip. Your bulge slides the rest of the way out of its sheath and wiggles around in the cool air. You shuffle awkwardly, not quite able to look him in the eye, and he seems equally at a loss as to what to do next. You decide to flail about conversationally, communication always seemed like the thing to do. So you pointed at his chest and asked, “What the crumpetfucking hell are those things?”  
Dave starts a little, then looks at where you're pointing and shrugs, “They're nipples dude. I don't think they actually do anything on a dude, but, they're, y'know, there. B-t-dubs, if we're doing q and a's now, I really want to ask you about, like everything but especially those.”  
Dave points at your slightly opened opercula. Of fucking course. He just had to pick one of your mutations over your bulge or something relatively normal. You wrap your arms around your chest defensively, and feel your bulge retreating. “Those are my gills, nookstain.”  
“Wait, what?” He says, “really?”

You nod, and he goes on, to your astonishment, “That's so cool! Do they work? I mean, can you breathe underwater?” He doesn't know how obscene it is that you have these organs, and your pusher fills with even more pity. “Yeah, they do work,” you answer, “fuck lot of good it ever did me, though, since I can't swim worth a damn and any violetblood who saw me flailing about in the ocean would have culled me without a thought. But yes, I can breathe fucking water if I want.”  
Dave seems a little saddened by this, so you change the subject by asking, “Where the fuck is your nook?”  
“My what?” Now he looks confused. Success.  
“Your nook, bulgegargler,” you finger yours to demonstrate, opening the outer cartilaginous plates with one claw.  
“Oh.” he says, looking a little shocked, “nook is troll for vagina. I don't have one. Only girls get a nook. I thought it was like another word for asshole or something.”  
“What the fuck did you think it meant asshole for? I mean, sure, you can shove things up your asshole but why would you fondle it?”  
“I dunno, some people do. Or did, I suppose. Wait, do trolls have buttsex? 'Cause if you guys all come equipped with both sets I guess there isn't much point.”  
“It's a blackrom thing,” you explain, happy to be in comfortable territory, “a really kinky way to show your kismesis how much you despise them by implying that they're not worth filling a bucket with while still fucking them.”  
“Huh,” is all he says. You find your gaze drawn back down to his bulge. It's softened a bit since you last looked, but as soon as Dave notices you looking it starts to stiffen again. He coughs a bit and stutters, before choking out, “youcantouchit, if you want.”

In the corner of your eye you can see him going red again. You reach out to poke it. It bounces. Which is kind of funny. You feel the silky softness of the skin and the soft fur at the base and the moist smoothness of the protruding purple segment, which makes Dave's breath catch. But it doesn't move, doesn't twine around your fingers like a bulge would, and you find yourself at a loss. You are, however, horny as the Handmaid herself with the drones at the door. So, you decide to work on the assumption that it's a weird, rigid bulge. You wrap your hand around the centre of it and squeeze like you would when you jerk off and are completely unprepared when he yelps in pain. You let go immediately and start stammering, “S-sorry, shit, sorry, I didn't know what to do so I just did what I like and clearly that was the wrong fucking thing-”  
“It's ok,” he says, “I can handle a little pain. Here, this is what I like.” he grabs hold of his bulge, apparently recovered and rigid again, and gently pulls the skin back towards his torso, exposing more of the purple thing until you can see all of it. It's sort of like a flesh nub stuck on the end and it fascinates you. Behind it, the skin keeps pulling back to expose its own inner surface, pink and moist. Then, he pulls it back out and over the nub again until it's entirely hidden. He repeats this a few times, and then says, “Do you want to try?”

What you want is for him to fuck you, but you can't figure out how that would even work, so you guess you'll be the empress of alien handjobs. You are, surprisingly, fine with this. Your nook is not, clenching on nothing, and nor is your bulge. Obviously, Dave's bulge is more sensitive than yours, so you don't think it'd handle your nookspines well. You take hold of his bulge and push the sheath back until the nub is exposed, and take a moment to examine it more closely. It's purple, the colour of high nobility, nearly seadweller, and it glistens slightly. There is an opening at the end, and the bottom is fused with a part of the skin sheath. You pull the sheath back over, and repeat the process a few times while Dave moans softly. A clear fluid oozes from the hole at the tip of the nub, lubricating fluid, you assume.

Your bulge writhes around looking for another to twine with, and you have an idea. You carefully guide it to Dave's bulge, and he looks on in fascination, when it slides over the nub and curls around the shaft he gasps, and after a minute or so of your bulge slipping and sliding all over his, Dave's bulge jerks and spits out a strange, viscous white substance while Dave groans in pleasure. Dave suddenly pulls away, flushed and panting, and mutters, “Sorry dude, I came a bit early. Not cool at all. Like the awkward nerd on prom night, girlfriend just sittin' there going 'really, that's it?' Regular two minute wonder. 'Course ain't my fault, you bein' so hot-”  
You tue him out, perplexed. What the shitfucking ass? Was that white goop his genetic fluid? That explained the lack of buckets, you supposed. Your nook is still clenching, and your bulge squirms in the open air. Dave's bulge, you notice, is softening and shrinking, the purple nub now ruddy. He looks at your bulge and asks, “Is it ok if I touch it? You got me off, only fair I return the favour.”

You nod, and guide his hand to the base of your bulge, “Squeeze there, that's what I like.”  
For quite possibly the first time in his absurdly verbose and obtuse life, he just does as he's told, an you almost expel your genetic fluid right then. When he brings his other hand up to stroke along the length of your bulge you decaptchalog a bucket and try to position it under your nook. He squeezes the tip of your bulge at the same time as the base and that's it, you cum. A torrent of red that mostly goes in the bucket, though not all, because Dave yelps in surprise and drops your bulge (which was a relief because it was ready to retract), and it startles you enough that some of your material sprays onto the floor.

“Shit man, 'spose that explains the fuckin' buckets,” Dave drawls, “must get fuckin' everywhere without 'em. Your just walkin' along and suddenly there's this neon fuckin' puddle in the middle of the hall 'cause your neighbour was hookin' up in the hall outside your appartment and couldn't be bothered to find an appropriate recepticle, like dang, Susan, we all know your marriage is unsatisfyin' but you could at least have the fuckin' manners to not leave technicolour jizz all over the place-”

You tune his ramblings out while you luxuriate in the afterglow of your first sexual experience. The pair of you have relocated to the restplatform in the corner, and you idly trace the line of fur on his stomach. Later on, you'll need to clean up, and then you'll need to sleep, and then there'll be the new session and what will hopefully be the final battle, and at some point you'll need to find the time to tell Kanaya that you've consummated your matespritship, according to romcoms telling your moirail is one of the first things you should do after this. But, for now, you just sit in the moment and marvel at the body next to you, and the person inside, and you are at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at smut. No idea what I'm doing.


End file.
